Between the Fields of Buttercups
by Fluttering Phalanges
Summary: A series of one shots that take place thirty years after Mockingjay. Now entering their late adulthoods, Effie and Haymitch can finally take pleasure in the simpler things in life. But as the dynamic duo always was, they can still find things to bicker about or fault each other for. Marriage comes with its baggage, but love always reigns in the end. [Please send in prompt ideas!]
1. Sunday Mornings

**A new one shot series for Hayffie that takes place thirty years after the end of Mockingjay. Haymitch is seventy one and Effie is in her mid to late sixties. Please feel free to send prompts in whether it's through tumblr or on a review! I look forward to writing them! And, as usual, feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Thanks so much! -Jen**

Sunday Mornings

Haymitch awoke to Effie's cold feet pressed against the backs of his legs. Despite how well she took care of herself, her circulation had begun to grow poor in the passing years. He exhaled softly, face buried in the indent of his pillow. It was Sunday morning, one of the very few days that his wife, for the past thirty or so years, actually allowed them to be lazy for once. Something, he decided at the first year, he wouldn't take for granted.

"Haymitch?" Her voice was quiet, sleep still evident in her tone. "Are you awake?"

"No," he mumbled, nestling down deeper under the covers. "Go back to sleep."

"I promised Peeta and Katniss we'd have breakfast with them and the children today," Effie said, the sounds of her sitting up beside him filling his ears. "Fern is returning for District Four today. You and I both promised we'd visit upon her arrival."

His niece-by close knit friendship only-had been gone for a month now. Fern Mellark, unlike many of the people Haymitch knew, was quite fond of traveling. In her earlier years, he was made by Effie to take her camping along with her brother, Clyde. Now, inching into her twenties, Fern thankfully could do much of that on her own.

Haymitch shifted under the blankets, his bones sore and his body weary from years of self abuse. Throughout his lifetime, there had been several different occasions when death seemed almost imminent. It was a shock to everyone, his self included, when he made it to his seventy first birthday, still as stubborn as ever and only a little senile. But despite this triumph, Effie refused to let him relax in victory. Oh no, she made him be some if not just as active as she was, claiming it was for "the well being of his health". Whether it was escorting or marriage, Effie Trinket-Abernathy always had to be in control of someone's schedule.

"Today's my day off," he mumbled, still not bothering to face the retired escort. "Tell them we cancel."

"Oh no," Effie's tongue clicked, the blanket suddenly falling from his body. "Up, up, up! You've slept enough as it is."

Haymitch groaned, frowning deeply as the cold air of the room met his under-dressed form. He curled in on himself, muttering as Effie patted his thigh gently. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to be getting up that morning. Blinking back sleep, he eyed his wooden cane in the corner of the room. The damn thing was so close and yet, so far. He'd despised when the doctor first made him start to use it, but now he had grown so dependent on the stupid thing. That-and though he'd never admit it-Effie.

"I can't believe you agreed to this," Haymitch mumbled, sitting up as Effie moved across the room to gather a pair of socks. "Why couldn't we have just done dinner?"

"Feet, Haymitch," she replied in a cheerful voice, beckoning for him to lift one of his legs up. "I chose the maroon ones today. They do look so lovely on you."

"Dinner I could have done," he muttered, holding his foot up towards Effie so she could slip his sock on. They were rather nice-warm, comfortable. Though he hated the color, he did find that the once escort's ability to knit was useful. They never had to worry about socks or scarves or hats at least.

"I suppose you can shower later," she exhaled, standing straight as she admired her handy work. "Let's just throw on some clothes and hurry over there. They may as well be our children, but that is no excuse to keep them waiting."

The air was cool as the couple exited the house, Effie's arm linked around Haymitch's as they slowly made their way down the cobblestone path. The old victor inhaled, the scent of fires burning and pine needles filling his nasal passageways. It was a pleasant morning to say the least, even if he would rather be in bed.

"Oh, I do love mornings," Effie sighed, resting her cheek against his arm as they made their way towards the Mellark household. "Perhaps once spring rolls around again, we could get a porch swing? It would be so wonderful to be able to sit outside and drink our tea amidst the wildlife."

"Are you referring to our geese?" Haymitch smirked, glancing down at his partner.

Effie gave him a look, her grip tightening around his forearm. "Of course not," she said bluntly. "I hope those darn things decide to fly South this winter. Honestly, Haymitch, I still don't understand why you had to get them. They poop everywhere and it brings flies into the house. I do despise flies."

"They wouldn't come up on the deck if you hadn't decided to start throwing scraps to them," he shrugged, lips playing into a small smile. "You're just as guilty as I am."

Fern was waiting outside when the two finally arrived at Peeta's and Katniss's home. Her long, dark hair hung down her shoulders, a grin present on her expression as she hurried over to her aunt and uncle. It had been eight weeks since either of the parties had seen each other. Haymitch gave a small smile, gripping his cane and Effie's elbow as Fern threw her arms around him a little more forcefully than he was use to.

"I missed you guys," she exclaimed, moving to hug Effie once Haymitch had managed to awkwardly hug her in return. "I got your letters. Thank you for writing me, it made going away not as hard as it was."

"But of course, darling," Effie smiled, embracing her niece. "We wouldn't have had it any other way. Isn't that right, Haymitch?"

"Your dad making breakfast or your mom?" Haymitch inquired, completely dismissing Effie's question. "Last time Katniss burned my eggs. Could've killed me, that charcoal. These lungs aren't getting any younger, you know."

"Haymitch," Effie scolded, swatting at her husband as Fern giggled into her hands. "Don't be rude."

"Dad," Fern assured him. "We're having toast and bacon, I think."

Effie inhaled, smiling softly as she redid her hold around her husband. The sun was shining bright outside, the heat comforting against the backs of their necks despite the frigid temperatures. Haymitch looked down at her, meeting her gaze with a small smile, Gently, he gave her arm a squeeze, causing Effie to nestle closer to him as they looked towards the door.

"Gonna invite us in, kid?" Haymitch smirked, letting Effie lean against him as their niece watched. "Don't think your parents would appreciate scooping our frozen bodies off of their doorstep."

"Right this way," Fern smiled, stepping aside to allow the adults access.

Giving his wife one last look, Haymitch allowed his arm to unlatch from hers so their hands could join. Inhaling deeply, he took another step, walking by Effie's side as they entered into the house. The door closed behind them, leaving the frosty air of Sunday locked away and their bodies to soon be warmed by the heat of food and fire.


	2. The Fountain

**Anonymous asked, "Are you starting to take old!Hayffie prompts? I was thinking something like a Mellark family member sees them fighting about something extremely low and petty even for them but then after like an hour they forgot they even fought."**

The Fountain

"We aren't getting a damn fountain, Effie."

At first, Peeta wasn't completely sure if he had heard Haymitch right. From where he was lying underneath their sink attempting to fix a leak, the sound quality wasn't the best. Nevertheless, the noise of the two seniors arguing had become clear as the minutes wore on. But what they had been fighting about, until now, the eldest Mellark wasn't sure.

"Why not?" Came the sound of the former escort's voice. "It would look so fantastic in our backyard! Haymitch, I've said this once and I'll say it again, you don't understand quality and luxury even if it's waved right in front of your face!"

"It's a twenty foot geyser in a four acre plot!" retorted the mentor. "And who the hell would you expect to clean it? That thing will get dirty within a day because you know the geese will want to use it!"

"I would," Effie said, slight hesitation in her voice. "I would volunteer to take care of it myself!"

Haymitch scoffed, "And break your hip when you slip and fall on the marble? Not a chance, at least one of us needs to have the ability to walk around fine. Who the hell is supposed to cook for me if you're incapacitated? We'd starve in here and the damn boy and girl probably wouldn't even notice until the smell rolled around next summer. No, we aren't getting a fountain."

"Oh you rude and inconsiderate, buffoon! You never let me have what I want! We've been married for nearly twenty five years and after all this time, you still won't allow me equality when it comes to redecorating or even decisions for that matter!" Effie cried out.

"That's because your ideas are insane!" Haymitch shot back. "Half the time I'm worried you've developed a severe case of onset dementia. Do you even really think about half the things that come out of your mouth?"

This had to stop. Peeta couldn't stand to listen to them fight over something so ridiculous. The two idiots loved each other, despite what they might claim sometimes, they didn't need to ruin their relationship over something so petty. Standing up, Peeta wiped his hands on his pants, looking towards the living room.

"I'm going to go get Katniss," he called, knowing that they hadn't heard him. "I'll be back."

Surprisingly, his wife was better with this sort of thing. While he was more sentimental, Katniss had more backbone to her and wasn't afraid to tell it as it was. She'd set the two straight, showing them how silly this whole disagreement was. The last sounds he heard as he exited the house, were of Effie yelling at Haymitch about some personality flaws she was not fond of. Peeta merely shook his head, exhaling as he headed in the direction of his own home.

They didn't return for an hour. When Peeta had found Katniss, she had been busy repairing the bow that Fern had accidentally broken last hunting excursion. Upon it's completion, the couple headed back over to the Abernathy residence, not even bothering to knock when they entered. Shockingly, the air was still inside. Completely and utterly silent. _Oh god_, Peeta thought, _they've gone and killed each other_.

"Haymitch?" He called out, a feeling of dread coming over him. "Effie?"

"In the living room, dear," Effie called out, her voice reasonably calm. "Please take your shoes off."

Katniss and Peeta looked at each other briefly before doing as the former escort commanded. When they found the two seniors, Effie was sitting in an armchair, quietly knitting while Haymitch, who slouched opposite of her, was just turning the page of his newspaper, a cup of hot tea resting on the side table nearest him.

"So..." Katniss said after a moment. "Are you both done arguing?"

The needle paused midway in Effie's garment as she peered up for a split second at the two other occupants. "Fighting?" She inquired, returning to her knitting. "What ever do you mean?"

"The argument you and Haymitch were having," Peeta asked. "About an hour ago?" He didn't want to bring up exactly what it was about, in fear it would start again.

Effie merely shook her head, "We weren't fighting. Haymitch, do you remember fighting, dear?"

Haymitch grunted, shaking his head as he turned the page of the newspaper. "Nope."

Katniss gave her husband a look, Peeta holding up his arms in response. He hadn't lied. They had practically been chewing each other's head off about a stupid fountain, But now, both sat on the couch like nothing had ever occurred.

"Alright," Katniss nodded. "Well, I just wanted you to know we're supposed to have a bad storm tonight. I don't want either of you going outside in it, so if you need anything, you give us a call, okay?"

"Sure, dear," Effie nodded, continuing to work on her knitting. "Thank you for your consideration. Haymitch?"

"Yep," mumbled the drunkard, not seeming to pay much attention. "Thanks."

Katniss and Peeta turned to leave, both offering one last glance in the other couple's direction before finally exiting the house. When the door closed, Katniss turned to her husband, giving him the same look for a second time that day.

"Arguing," she mused. "Fighting to the death with knitting needles and newspaper clippings."

"I swear," Peeta insisted. "They _were_ arguing."

"Hm," Katniss hummed, reaching down to take his hand as they walked back towards their house. "Of course they were, dear."


End file.
